


The Peace Treaty

by SoU2019



Series: Royed OTPoly 2020 SoU [12]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Bedding Ceremony, Don't Like Don't Read, Ed is 18, Ed is a Xersian Prince, Hermaphrodites, Intersex, M/M, Roy is a Xingan Prince, SoUarchive, Xerxes | Cselkcess, also cause it is a difficult situation, discussion of consent, peace treaty marriage, tagged as Dubcon for safety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:49:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26539138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoU2019/pseuds/SoU2019
Summary: The silence is broken by a soft rustling of fabric, Roy turns to see his betrothed struggle to his feet as he turns golden eyes on him.The Kings of Xing and Xerxes seek peace through a marriage and some antiquated customs.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Series: Royed OTPoly 2020 SoU [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815196
Comments: 9
Kudos: 133





	The Peace Treaty

**Author's Note:**

> Royed OTPoly  
> Prompt: Royalty AU. Ed and/or Roy are royalty.   
> House: They come from rival families/opposing backgrounds.   
> Hotel: They've been secretly dating.

The silence is broken by a soft rustling of fabric, Roy turns to see his betrothed struggle to his feet as he turns golden eyes on him. The Prince, who had done nothing except stare blankly at his hands, clears his throat and Roy hears him speak for the first time, “It is customary for each party to receive a gift on the wedding night.” The Prince’s gaze does not waver.

Roy casts a quick glance around the room, but sees no opposition. “I will comply with any custom of your people.” He says.

The Prince takes in a steadying breath, “Thank-you.” He says, “I do not wish for any material goods, I simply request that, as my gift, Prince Alphonse be excused from the bedding ceremony.”

Roy nods despite not quite understanding all of the words that had just been said, “The Prince is excused.” He agrees. The Prince nods shakily, before sitting back down. Roy looks at the King, the trepidation growing and making his lungs tighten, “What exactly is a Xerxian bedding ceremony?” he asks.

“Any marriage that signals the end of a war must be consummated on the altar of Tilitatis, the goddess of fertility and peace.” The King says, “The priestess will provide a blessing, and the witnesses will ensure that the treaty is complete.”

Why did he ever think that this would be anything but awful? He knew that Xerxes had some unusual customs, and that it was a highly religious society, but to be so backward as to require a bedding ceremony!? What? Was he really expected to take the crown prince as his husband, and then be obligated to have sex infront of the King’s advisors? Would that even be sex, or was it simply rape? He could feel the gaze of everyone in the room watching him for any sign of treachery. The war had drained the resources of Xerxes and Xing to the point where his father had finally agreed to sending him to settle a peace treaty. He knew that Xerxes preferred to secure any international treaties through royal marriages, and he had been willing to marry whomsoever the King of Xerxes wished him to marry, but he had never suspected that this would be part of the marriage procedure.

“How many witnesses are required?” Roy asks, feeling his mouth go dry, and his heart race.

The King shrugs, his shoulders bent under the weight of the jewel encrusted cape, “In the time of my ancestors there would be a city wide celebration, but in these times of hardship I would recommend limiting the number of witnesses to fewer than 1000, as that is the maximum number of people that can be seated inside of the temple.”

For the first time in a very long time, Roy felt the urge to vomit. Prince Edward seemed to share in his dislike of the idea if his pallour was anything to go by.

“I am honoured to be partaking in such an ancient ritual,” Roy said, choking down bile. “However, I am not accustomed to such--displays, and I would prefer to have a smaller audience.” He said, forcing himself to refrain from saying ‘ideally none at all.’

“This is a very important treaty.” The King leans forward, a look of suspicion clouding his eyes. “Your hesitation appears to me to be a sign of Xing’s perfidiousness.” The sneer on the King’s face is dreadful. “Are you unwilling to prove to my people that you are earnest in your country’s intentions?”

“No!” Roy says earnestly, “I am simply not accustomed to your rituals. My request is simply based on the privacy that we in Xing expect in such matters.” He can see the annoyance, and disdain on the faces of the younger councilors, but the King seems to be appeased. “Please invite as many people as you see fit.”

The King smiles at that, and Roy wants to die.

“Very well, Prince Roy.” The King says, “Now that that's settled, what would you like as your wedding night gift?”

_ ‘A quick death.’ _ Roy thinks, but says, “My sister, the Crown Princess Olivier, has always praised the strength of Xerxian swords, and I would be honoured to receive one to commemorate the occasion.” He says, the words sounding smooth even as they feel thick on his tongue.

“A fine request.” The King says, before turning to his son, “The wedding shall be held tomorrow afternoon, Do not disappoint me.” 

The look the King sends his son is chilling, and Roy peers over to the young Prince, who appears to be barely of age, and sees the fear in his eyes, before a wall of stubbornness rises to hide the expression.

“I will not, My King.” Prince Edward says, and there is nothing in his tone that suggests disobedience. 

Roy watches the Prince bow stiffly, before being dismissed. He had heard rumours of the King’s treatment of his sons. One outlandish story claimed that, as young children, the boys would be locked up in a room with law books and not be allowed out until they could recite the book by heart. Another rumour told of the time that the boys had fallen ill, and the King did not visit the infirmary even when the younger prince fell into a coma. It was common knowledge that the King was paying extravagant amounts of gold to anyone who could create a philosopher’s stone, and that it was this search for immortality that made him uninterested in his heirs. Others whispered that the King was already immortal, and simply sought to ensure that anyone intelligent enough to create a philosopher’s stone was in his employ, and easily silenced.

In the end, it doesn’t matter what the rumours say. Xerxes and Xing must agree to peace, no matter the cost.

\---

Roy isn’t sure if it’s the jangling of the metal latch that awakes him, or if it's the rattling of the panes of glass; regardless, he is sitting up in bed, gloved hand outstretched, and ready to snap.

“Fucking shit!” The intruder swears, as he falls through the open window, and lands awkwardly on the floor, “If you kill me then we’re both screwed!” 

Roy squints at the shape of a man near the foot of his bed, he moves his hand to aim at the candle he left on the nightstand. He snaps.

“Holy Shit!” Prince Edward exclaims in perfect Xingese, “You’ve gotta teach me how to do that!”

Roy blinks at him, “What are you doing in my room?” He asks, the situation becoming more surreal with every passing moment, “You’re not supposed to be here.” Roy says, feeling the panic rising. He can’t afford for any part of this mission to go wrong! If a guard entered and found the Prince in here, there would be outrage, and the treaty would fall through! “You need to go!” He hisses, looking around for any sign of spying eyes.

“Relax.” The Prince says, “The security in the palace is shit, I have a whole 5 minutes before Al realizes I’m gone, but it’s not like he’s gonna sell me out.”

“Prince--” Roy begins, but is cut off with a glare.

“Nuh-uh, call me Ed.” Ed says, jumping onto the mattress by Roy’s feet. “Look, tomorrow is gonna be bad enough without people going around groveling at my feet, so I don’t need you  _ ‘princing’  _ me.”

Roy tries to say something, but finds that there is nothing he can say that would make any sense.

“Did they tell you what the ceremony is like?” Ed asks, tossing his loose hair back, crossing his legs and pulling the edges of his white tunic down to stretch over his knees.

He nods.

“Good. Cause no one tells me shit, and I’m going crazy not knowing.” Ed says, titling his head, “Tell me.”

“What is it that you want to know?” Roy hears himself ask.

“Everything!” Ed cries out, “Me and Al have tried everything to find out about this ceremony, but we haven’t had access to the library in months, and my father has specifically ordered everyone to keep quiet.” He clenches his fists, “He thinks that if I don’t know the plans, I can’t try to plan an escape. He’s right, but it’s not like I’d try to pull anything anyways, not with Al stuck here.”

Roy looks at him carefully, there is a strange tension in his shoulders, and an anger burning in his eyes, but it’s all masked under a facade of acceptance that Roy knows all too well.

“Prince Alphonse?” Roy asks.

Ed nods, “Yeah, he’s betrothed to Lady Winry, but if this treaty falls through, then father will get the Tsarina of Drachma to send one of her children to marry Al.” Ed sighed, “but Al really likes Winry, and I can’t let that happen.” He looks up sharply, “So I need to know what to expect tomorrow so that I stop freaking out and not ruin everything.”

Ignorance is rarely bliss. It is impossible to brace yourself properly when you don’t know what it is that you are facing, and he can see the barely disguised terror in the Prince’s eyes.

“Alright,” he says, looking at the door, “but I can’t risk being found with you in here, so I need you to be quiet.”

Ed nods, and Roy blows out the candle, letting the moon glimmer off of the Xersian prince’s hair.

“Tomorrow morning we will attend separate cleansing rituals, before being sent off to be dressed for the wedding ceremony.” Roy swallows, “The wedding will be like any other wedding, except with a bit more pomp and circumstance, and then the priestess will undress you and--” He coughs in an attempt to breathe. “And then you will go on the altar, and I will---” He flounders, unable to finish that sentence.

“Will it hurt?” Ed asks, his voice quiet, and face glowing white under the moonlight.

Roy feels that question stab him like a knife; of course Edward is inexperienced, of course the prince would be required to keep his virginity intact for diplomatic reasons, and of course there was nothing he could do about it.

“The priestess will check your hymen, so you can’t do anything to prepare yourself.” Roy says, looking down at his hands, “If you want it to be over quickly, it will hurt. I can make it easier by taking it slowly, but I doubt the setting will let you relax enough for it to be pain free.” He isn’t even sure that he is speaking anymore, the words sound tinny and distant like someone else is saying them.

“Okay.” Ed says, his voice steady. “Will there be anything after the ceremony?”

Roy shakes his head, “No, we will be allowed to retire while the feast begins.”

“Figures.” Ed grumbles, “I don’t get to have any of the food made in my honour.”

“I can request a dinner be set up in our rooms.” Roy says.

Ed doesn’t respond to that, and Roy looks at him quizzically.

“What--” Ed begins, but he chokes on the words, “What are the chances I’ll get pregnant?”

Roy wants to crawl into a corner and die. “I don’t know.” He manages, “I will not be able to use a condom, so it depends on what part of your cycle you are on.”

Ed hugs his knees to his chest, and buries his head into the small space between them and his own chest, “Okay.” He whispers, and Roy wants to die even more.

“Look, Pr-- _ Edward _ , I’m sorry that this is happening.” He says, his voice wavering a little. “I can’t risk your father’s rage, so I have to play along. Xing needs this treaty as much as Xerxes does, and I can’t endanger the lives of my people over this. I need to do it, even though I really, really do not want to.”

Ed looks even paler, and Roy internally berates himself. “I don’t mean to say that I am unhappy to be marrying you, I simply mean that I wish I didn’t have to publicly rape you infront of everyone you know.”

“It’s not rape.” Ed says, but his voice is weak.

“It’s not consensual.” Roy says.

“So what? I need to do this for Al, and you need to do it for Xing. I won’t hold it against you.”

Roy wants to laugh, he also wants to cry, but he feels so unbalanced that he can’t settle on either action and instead presses his palms to his face.

“Why did you come here, Edward?” He asks.

“Because Al said that you looked like a good person, and that tomorrow was gonna suck for you too.” He shrugs, “I trust Al’s judgement.”

Roy looks at him, “I’m not a  _ ‘good person.’  _ ” He says, the taste of sand and blood overwhelming his senses.

“Well, I don’t know you, so I can’t say.” Ed shrugs, “All I know is that Al likes you from what he saw while he was spying on the meeting earlier, and Al is  _ never  _ wrong about people.”

“I don’t think watching me at one meeting is a fair assessment of my character.” Roy says.

Ed runs a hand through his hair, “Well it’s better than nothing. I’m willing to give this a shot, and even though this is the most we’ve talked, I already think you’re better than the other marriage options that I could have been given.”

Roy doubted that he would think that for very long, but the sentiment was nice enough. It was perhaps a good thing that his inner romantic had been beaten into submission so many years ago when Olivier had cornered him and slapped the romance novel out of his hands.  _ ‘You won’t marry for love, _ ’ she had said, ‘ _ You’ll marry for the kingdom, so you’d better stop filling your head with this nonsense.’  _ It had been a hard lesson to learn, but she had been right, and perhaps, it was her way of being kind. He had stopped dreaming about marrying someone who made his heart flutter, and he had instead learned to accept his fate as a physical manifestation of an international treaty.

They sat in silence, the flickering stars dancing off of Edward’s bronzed skin and sharp jawline.

“Could we maybe--” Ed grimaces, “Look, I am not used to being given much of a choice in my personal life. My asshole father dictates everything, and there is only so far I can push without getting locked up in my rooms, so I-- I don’t want  _ this  _ to be something he also controls.” Ed looks up at him through dark lashes, and a barely discernible flush. “Could we maybe...practice?”

Roy feels his heart stop. He stares at the young man who is sitting across from him on the bed, with overwhelming fear. “I can’t risk that!” he says, “Do you not understand how parlous that would be! If you were caught in here  _ before  _ the wedding, everything would fall apart!”

The prince huffs in exasperation, “I already told you that the security is shit!” He gestures wildly, but keeps his voice low, “There is a contingent of guards on the perimeter of the palace, and another contingent around the living quarters. Only the ends of the hallways are patrolled, as my father has always hated being awoken by the sound of soldiers pacing up and down by the bedrooms. He has standing guards, you do not. There aren’t even any spy holes in this room because Al snuck in here before you came and fixed them all to make sure the guards wouldn’t be spying on you. He even closed off his own spy hole yesterday just in case it had been discovered.” Ed gestured towards one of the tapestries in the corner, “Your door is solid oak, and by the time they break it down I’ll have escaped.”

Roy begins to protest, but he is cut off by Ed’s glare. “Look. Ever since I learned what being a ‘fertile hermaphrodite’ means, I’ve been stuck inside this stupid palace. My father insists on keeping an eye on me, and yet I’ve managed to outwit his bullshit excuse of an army. I literally spent nearly every single night of the last year hanging out with friends in the western quarter, and I also managed to get night classes with a self defence teacher who has been training me for nearly five years without my father’s knowledge. I know how to evade the guards, and I know what they are able or unable to do, and I know that they have absolutely no clue that I’ve ever evaded them.” He pauses for a breath, and Roy tries to interject, but is easily cut off. “I get it if you don’t want to because you’d rather be marrying a girl or something, but just fucking say it instead of hiding behind the ‘ _ oh but the guards _ ’ shit.”

“I thought you said you only had five minutes.” Roy says weakly.

“Five minutes before Al realized I was gone, which means that, by now, he is ready to cover for me should anything happen. I think he knows where I am.” Ed says, shifting his gaze to the window which he had used as a door. “Al’s the crown prince, so he has access to all security information, and he told me that he checked and that nothing in the guard’s instructions had changed.” The anger had left Ed’s voice, and now he just sat hunching in on himself, looking like a ghost of his former self.

He knew that Edward had been the crown prince until his 13th year when he had begun to menstruate. It had been the talk of the court for a full week, as the Emperor had begun to consider arranging a marriage between Olivier and Edward, but then the war had broken out, and Drachma, Ishval and Arego had begun to vying for a connection with the royal house of Xing. Olivier was too powerful a pawn to be married to a hermaphrodite prince, and so Roy had been selected as part of the marriage alliance. Roy had only been here a fortnight, and he had spent less than an hour in the presence of his groom. The princes were kept away from him, and he had spent far too much time in the company of the King who seemed to have lost any semblance of humanity. This whole marriage debacle was the final proof Roy needed to cement his hatred for the old man. 

“Very well then.” Roy says, brushing his hair back, and extending a hand to the prince.

The prince stares at the hand for a long second before meeting Roy’s eyes. “Really?”

“Yes.” Roy nods, “I trust that you know more about the palace guards than I do, and I trust that you know what you need inorder to make tomorrow easier to bear.”

Edward’s eyes are wide, and the combination of loose golden hair, white tunic, and youthful expression make him think of the paintings of angels that decorate the dining hall. Roy swallows, and attempts a soft smile.

“Okay,” Ed says, taking the hand. “Okay.”

Roy gently pulls him up the bed and lets him sit directly in front of him, their knees knocking against each other.

“What are the ways in which Xerxian’s show physical affection?” Roy asks, as he slowly reaches out and brushes a stray strand of hair behind Ed’s ear.

The dimness of the room made it impossible to discern the colour of the prince’s cheeks, but the tilt of his head indicated that he was embarrassed by the topic.

“Uh--it’s kind of hard to explain.” 

“Show me.” Roy murmurs, and he feels the prince shiver.

Slowly, and with hesitation, the prince lifts his left hand, and taking Roy’s right hand, presses their palms together and intertwines their fingers. Edward’s hands are slightly clammy, and nowhere near as soft as Roy expected them to be. The calluses on his fingers are those left by weapons training, and Roy wonders what exactly this ‘self-defence’ teacher had been teaching him. With even greater hesitation, the prince reaches out and slowly pulls Roy’s face closer, but instead of a press of lips, Roy feels their noses brushing, and their foreheads pressing together.

“It is customary to do this while breathing in sync.” Ed whispers, and Roy closes his eyes and focuses on the pulse he can feel through their intertwined hands. It’s nice, and he easily matches Ed’s breathing. It’s not something that the Xingese do, but he understands the intimacy of feeling another person’s exhale mingling with your own.

Roy nuzzles closer, and Ed’s breath hitches at the slight shift in contact. Roy takes his free hand and gently tilts Ed’s face just enough to perfectly align their lips, and with a heavy lidded gaze he meets Ed’s wide eyes and presses their lips together.

The kiss is slow, and Ed leans into it, quickly copying Roy’s movements, and letting him take the lead. There is nothing submissive about Edward’s mouth, and Roy smiles at the inexpert attempts to deepen the kiss. He pulls Ed up onto his knees, and pulls him closer as they kiss, until Roy feels his back complain. With a final soft press of lips he pulls back, and steadies Ed as he tries to regain his balance. 

Edward looks rather dazed, and Roy uses the opportunity to rearrange the pillows against the headboard so that he can sit up with proper support. The prince watches him with interest, and doesn’t give him a second before climbing into his lap and resuming the kiss. 

Roy would be lying if he said he didn’t find men attractive. Obviously Edward was not a  _ ‘normal’  _ man, but he had been raised as male, and regardless of his childbearing abilities, he looked beautifully masculine. He had seen portraits of the princes in the palace, and he had found that Edward’s sharp eyes, and structured face was more attractive than Alphonse’s boyish features. They both looked quite similar to their father, but Edward was the most like the old King. Despite the unpleasant circumstances, Roy was quietly relieved that the prince wasn’t a spoiled child who cared for nothing but a life of non-stop pleasure. He banished the flickering thought of the godawful children of the Drachman Tsarina. The teenage Tsesarevich had visited Xing for the 50th birthday celebration of the Emperor, and Roy had barely restrained Olivier from decapitating the ‘presumptive prick-eared eunuch’ after the twerp had tried to feel her up.

He nips at Ed’s lower lip, and earns a groan. Ed gasps loudly as Roy brushes his tongue into his mouth, but he quickly reciprocates. Roy runs a hand through the prince’s hair, and presses him closer, as Ed gives in fully to the kiss.

With his free hand, Roy lets himself explore the body that is grinding down on him. The tunic is a soft silk that lets him feel every ripple of muscle, and every curve of bone that lies hidden beneath its protection. Edward makes a quiet sound as Roy’s hands cup his ass, and suddenly he pulls back, untangles their hands, whips the tunic over his head, and throws it off to the side.

Roy stares at the expanse of flesh that he can see. Edward is magnificent. His chest is smooth and broad, with only the slightest impression of breasts that perk up as Roy fondles the nipples. It is difficult to see in the dark, but the moonlight reveals a hint of uneven skin around Edward’s left leg. Roy lets his hand caress the scar tissue as he pulls Edward back down for a kiss. This time it’s much more heated than the last one, and Edward is squirming in Roy’s lap, making it impossible to hide his own body’s reaction.

“I wanna see.” Edward says, wiping a thread of saliva off his face.

Roy nods, slides Ed off, and proceeds to remove his sleep tunic in the most seductive way possible. Despite the horrors of tomorrow, at least this is something they can have on their own terms.

He balls the fabric up, and sets it to the side, positioning himself in such a way that the faint light illuminates him just enough for Edward to see. He leans back into the cushions, and looks at Ed who is currently preoccupied with looking at his dick.

“You can touch.” Roy says, and smiles as a hand reaches out and carefully wraps around him. The touch is much more investigative than sensual, and Roy watches the hand make its way down the testicles, before disappearing further into the unlit crevice. He spreads his legs wide enough for Ed’s hands to feel the soft skin of his perineum, and the gentle probing seems to indicate that he is looking for something.

“Oh.” Ed says, and pulls his hand back. “I guess---well that’s different.”

“How so?” Roy asks.

“You don’t--” Ed grabs his hand and shoves it down towards his genitals. “See?”

Roy doesn’t see, but he feels, and he nods. Edward has a penis, but his testicles are little more than a bump, and nestled right behind them are a set of labial folds.

“I see.” He says, feeling the soft skin. “Do you have a clitoris?”

Ed shakes his head, “No, I saw a diagram a doctor drew for me, and I think I have a prostate that could be reached through the vagina, but I’ve been strictly forbidden from doing anything that could damage the hymen.”

Roy wants to say that that’s absurd, he wants to point out that hymens aren’t proof of anything, and that it is an archaic method for maintaining ‘purity’. He has been on the receiving end of Olivier’s rants about how the Xersian obsession with female virginity is solely based on the male fear of having a child masquerading as their genetic offspring, and bequeathing their property to a child who doesn’t share their genes. The whole system is ridiculous to Xingan ears, because of the way that adoption is typical within their society. He had been adopted by the Emperor from his clan. Olivier is the Emperor’s favourite, and she had been adopted from a border clan when she was in her early teens. The Emperor had fathered children, but none of them possessed Olivier’s leadership abilities, nor his own political genius. His other siblings had also been taken from various other clans, and they were all remarkable in their own way, but until one of them could take down Olivier, none of them stood a chance for the throne.

Instead of saying anything, Roy nods, and focuses on feeling the warmth at his fingertips.

Edward is still pretty tense, so Roy leads him down until they are both facing each other and laying side-by-side.

“Tomorrow,” Roy begins, “I will do everything in my power to make this as easy for you as possible.” He takes Ed’s hand and squeezes, “I wish it weren’t so, but I have to do it.”

“We.” Edward interjects.

“What?”

“We have to do it.” Ed repeats, “This isn’t just about what you have to do, it's what we both have to do for the sake of the treaty.”

“For the treaty.” Roy repeats, and if a little bit of bitterness seeps into his tone, Edward doesn’t comment.

The silence is comfortable, despite the dread and the fact that they are both essentially strangers, and perhaps that is a sign of their compatibility. Or perhaps it is a sign that his inner romantic isn’t as quashed as Olivier would like to think.

“We can’t have sex because of the hymen check tomorrow,” Ed says, “but could we still do something? Maybe that’ll make tomorrow easier.” He sounds unsure, almost like he doubts that anything could make the bedding ceremony ‘easier,’ but Roy knows that this illicit rondez-vous is enough to make them both feel like they have some agency, and that perhaps, if they do this now, then tomorrow won’t be as forced.

“Can I suck you?” Roy asks, his hand ghosting over Ed’s chest.

“Yes.” Edward says, his voice sounding a little strangled, but he rolls onto his back and lets Roy kneel between his legs.

The darkness doesn’t let him see much, but it is clear from this position that the damage Ed’s left leg sustained was significant, but since he seems to walk without trouble, it may have been only superficial damage.

Edward doesn’t seem willing to comment on Roy’s interest in his scars, so Roy turns his attention to the task at hand. It is the first time Roy has been with anyone who was born as intersexed, but he figures it can’t be all that different. He starts by feeling up the inside of Ed’s thighs and pressing open mouth kisses to the base of Ed’s half hard cock. Ed jerks above him, and a hand settles on his shoulders, as Ed spreads his legs wider. It is easy to envelop the small testicles, and Roy sucks them until Ed is gasping, and his cock is fully hard. Looking up at him, Roy begins to lick his way up the shaft, rubbing a thumb up and down the base. Edward comes the moment Roy takes him into his mouth and sucks. The cry of pleasure is silent, and Roy does his best to swallow the spurts of cum that coat his tongue. He presses a few kisses to Ed’s abdomen before laying back down beside him and entangling their fingers together. Edward stops gasping, and turns to press their foreheads and noses together; the intimacy of the position making Roy’s heart flutter.

“Can I?” Edward finally asks, gesturing towards Roy’s groin.

Roy shakes his head. “Best not. Tomorrow is going to be--difficult, and I need every ounce of sexual tension if I am to perform the ceremony.”

Edward nods in understanding. “Is there anything I can do to make it easier?”

Roy wants to laugh, he wants to laugh at the absurdity of his life. Edward should be focusing on preparing to be publicly penetrated, not worrying about him! The combination of tension, humiliation and the fact that Edward hasn’t even fingered himself, spells out the word ‘pain’ and he should be thinking about how to best manage the pain.

Something must show in his face, because even in the pale light Ed scowls and shoves at him.

“Fucks sake!” He mutters, “Look, you’ll do your best to make it easy for me, and I’ll do my best to make it easier for you. Equivalent exchange.”

Edward looks sincere, and genuinely annoyed. Roy wants to cry. “Fine.” He says, “Equivalent exchange. Anything you can do to make it feel less like rape the better.”

The prince sighs quietly, “I’ll try.” He says, and sits up, clambering over Roy to reach his tunic. In a swift movement he pulls it back on, and stands to the side of the bed. “Um--thanks?” He says, taking a reluctant step backwards. “I need to go.” 

Roy sits up and watches Ed peer out the window, before slipping out into the night.

\---

Edward is laying flat on his back, legs spread, and looking like he wants to simultaneously die, and kill every single last person in the temple. The priestess kneels to inspect Edward.

“He is intact.” She states, her voice as haggard as the desert that surrounds the city. She turns her ancient eyes on him, “You may proceed.”

It takes everything he has to walk, straight backed across to the massive altar upon which his newly proclaimed spouse is splayed across, without looking at the crowds of people filling the temple pews. The King and his men are seated in the front to the right of the altar, and despite the distance, they will have an excellent view of Ed’s cunt. The urge to vomit nags at him, but he can’t afford to lose any more of his composure. At least the vast majority of the spectators are positioned in front of the altar, and will only see the top of Ed’s head, and his own face. Edward is positioned away from the crowds, but his eyes flicker towards them at every cough or shuffle. He looks the way Roy feels, but his face is visible, and he knows how to control his expressions in front of an audience.

Edward looks at him, and starts to tremble. The nervousness is written plain across his bronzed face, and Roy catches one of the shaking hands and clasps it in his own. They can do this. They have to do this.

They are both wearing traditional garments, which means that Ed is dressed in a long and elaborate embroidered tunic, and Roy is wearing the fitted trousers, and cross-over shirt that has been considered to be Xing’s official traditional clothing. Ed’s pants and under-clothes have already been discarded by the priestess, and he is left with nothing but the tunic covering his body. Roy takes a calming breath and presses a kiss to Ed’s ear, whispering “Relax.” As he tugs the tunic up to Ed’s hips, revealing the folds of Edward’s second sex.

It takes some coaxing, but soon his finger is covered by Ed’s slick, and he finally feels Edward relax just enough for him to slip in a finger. Ed keens, and he arches into the touch, and Roy can almost pretend that they are in their own quarters. The second finger goes in just as easily, but Ed is becoming distracted by the audience that is out of his line of sight. There’s nothing for it but to use his free hand to touch the soft cock before Ed’s distraction gets any worse.

At the touch Ed’s eyes refocus on him, and he lets him stroke him in time to the fingers stretching and probing in his vagina. It takes a great deal of imagination, and recalling every fantasy he had ever had, but somehow he manages to get hard enough to press the tip of his dick inside. Ed tenses at the sensation of the head pressing into him, but his eyes meet Roy’s and he relaxes enough for Roy to breach him. Ed screams at the stretch, and he struggles to not push away. Roy bites his lip as the tightness and the clenching muscles send waves of pleasure through him. There are tears in Edward’s eyes, but Roy doesn’t let himself dwell on that, and instead focuses on Ed’s softening cock. It doesn’t take much before it is back to full hardness, and Ed has relaxed enough to let Roy sink in all the way. It is the most conflicting situation he has ever found himself in, and he does his best to banish those thoughts before they compromise him. He tries to reign in his mind, and recalls the events of the previous night when Edward snuck into his room and he had basically begged Roy to touch him. It doesn’t matter what the motivations were, nor the briefness of the encounter. What matters is that Ed had cum in his mouth, and now he would have Ed cum in his hand.

Ed’s spine arches, and his head twists to the side, as Roy’s hand strokes him in time with his thrusts. It doesn’t take long, and despite the awful circumstances, Ed cums with a cry and a choked sob. The muscle spasms and the way that Ed’s legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer, push Roy over the edge, and he feels himself filling Edward with his seed. Ed makes a soft sound as his body clenches around Roy’s cock, and Roy has to use a hand to keep himself upright.

The sound of applause brings them both back to reality, and Roy flashes a look of concern at Ed.

“Let’s go.” Ed whispers, just loud enough for Roy to hear. “Please, I can’t--” There is a note of panic in his tone that Roy can sympathize with. 

“Can you stand?” Roy asks, forcing his own panic away for just a bit longer.

There are a few people moving around them. Ed makes an attempt to sit up, but ends up clutching Roy’s arm inorder to steady himself. The priestess is saying something to the congregation, but he doesn’t hear a single word, as he accepts an advisor’s invitation to follow her to their quarters.

He isn’t quite sure how he makes it to the large bathing room with Edward huddling so close to him that he nearly trips. The man is nearly as tall as himself, but his steps are just short enough that Roy struggles to keep them both upright. The advisor congratulates them, fuck knows why, and then closes the doors behind her.

“Bath.” Ed says, and Roy notices the steaming golden tub. It is a testament to his own mental state that he didn’t instantly see the sculpted bejeweled monstrosity.

Ed climbs into it, before pausing to stare at his quickly dampening tunic in confusion. He casts an embarrassed glance at Roy, and quickly removes the clothing before settling into the far corner of the tub.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Roy hears himself say, as he makes no move to leave.

Ed looks at him in consternation, “You can come in if you’d like.” He says slowly, “It’s big enough.”

Roy looks at him, “Are you sure?” He asks, “I thought you might like some time alone.”

Ed shakes his head, “It's fine.” He says, and Roy looks at him considerately.

“Are you certain? I understand if you need some time alone.”

“I don’t want to be alone.” Ed says, looking at his own reflection in the water.

Roy isn’t quite sure what it is he sees in Ed’s expression, but he finds himself piling his clothing on the floor, and stepping into the perfumed water. Golden eyes look at him, and he forces a tight smile. 

“If my father doesn’t let Al marry Winry, I am going to overthrow the bastard.”

“After the events of today, I’d be inclined to assist in that plot.” Roy says, letting the warm water relax him.

“It has been over two centuries since the last fucking bedding ceremony. The bastard could have declared that it was outdated, which it is, but he is a piece of shit who is obsessed with reminding me that he can control my life” Ed sunk up to his chin. “I am just so fucking happy that he is nicer to Al; otherwise I don’t think I could leave.”

“I am sorry that you two will be separated.” Roy says, “I wish he could join us in Xing.”

“Urgh, I know!” Ed says, “But then what of the people? They gotta have someone sane in the palace.”

“I’ll ensure that you can maintain contact with him.” Roy says, “If you wish to learn alchemy, or Xingese sword fighting, I’ll make sure to find you the resources. You’ll be able to do as you please.”

“Oh.” Ed says, “That’s nice, I’d like that.” He looks at Roy, and then slides over to the far end where he is sitting, trying to give the younger man some space.

“Is this ok?” Ed asks as he settles in beside Roy, resting his head on Roy’s arm.

Roy sighs quietly and nods, “Yes.” He angles his head to rest on top of the messy blond hair, “Anything you are comfortable with.”

**Author's Note:**

> loosely inspired by KitCat_Italica's What Makes a Marriage (thorki) but hers is much better and has like 200x the introspection. 
> 
> I hope I didn't glorify anything noncon here. If anyone feels ooc its because they were raised by royalty and that would change them a bit.


End file.
